Coming of the Fur-Runners
That night, when we returned home, Oo-koo-hoo said to his grandsons: “Ne-geek and Ah-ging-goos, my grandchildren, the fur-runner is coming soon. To-morrow do you both take the dogs and break a two-days’ trail on Otter River in order to hasten his coming.”
Next morning the boys set out to break the trail. When they camped on Otter River on the afternoon of the second day they cached in the river ice some fish for the trader’s dogs. They chopped a hole and, after placing the fish in, filled it up with water, which they allowed to freeze, with the tail of a single fish protruding, in order to show the fur-runner what was cached below. To mark the spot, they planted a pole with its butt in the hole, and rigged up a tripod of sticks to support it. At the top of the pole they tied a little bag of tea and a choice piece of meat for the trader. At the bend of the river below, where he would surely pass, they erected another pole with a bunch of fir twigs attached, for the purpose of attracting his attention to their tracks.
On their return home they found Oo-koo-hoo and Amik sorting their furs in anticipation of the fur-runner’s arrival. Before them lay, among the other skins, the skin of the black fox, and when the boys entered the lodge Oo-koo-hoo addressed the whole family, saying:
“Do not mention the black fox to the fur-runner, since I intend keeping it until I go to the Post, in the hope of making a better bargain there. Now sort your skins, and set aside those you wish to give in payment on your debt to the Great Company.”
During the afternoon of the following day Lawson the fur-runner for the Hudson’s Bay Company arrived with his dog-train. He shook hands with Oo-koo-hoo and Amik and the boys, and kissed the women and the girls, as the custom of the traders is. It being late in the day, Oo-koo-hoo decided not to begin trading until next morning. So they spent the evening in spinning yarns around the fire. Shortly after breakfast strange dogs were heard. The boys ran out and saw an unknown man approaching. When the newcomer—a French-Canadian half-breed—had eaten, and had joined the others in a smoke, he gave me a letter from Free Trader Spear. Then Oo-koo-hoo began questioning him:
“My brother, you are a stranger in this country; so I have given you fire and food and tobacco in friendship. Tell me now why and from whence you come?”
The half-breed replied: “My brother, I come from the Border Lands—where the plains and the forests meet—and my name is Gibeault. I have come to trade regularly with you as I am now working for Free Trader Spear, whose post, as you know, is near Fort Consolation. You will do well to encourage opposition to the Great Company, and thus raise the price of furs.”
The half-breed then presented the hunters with several plugs of “T & B,” some matches, tea, sugar, flour, and a piece of “sow-belly.” For some time Oo-koo-hoo sat holding a little fresh-cut tobacco in his hand, until Gibeault, taking notice, asked him why he did not smoke it.
“The Great Company always gives me a pipe,” replied the hunter.
The runner for the free trader, not to be outdone, gave him a pipe.
“I suppose,” began Oo-koo-hoo, “that your heart is glad to see me.”
“Yes,” replied Gibeault, “and I want to get some of your fur.”
“That is all very well, but I will see which way you look at me,” returned the Indian.
“Have you much fur?” asked the half-breed.
“I have enough to pay my debt to the Great Company.”
“Yes, I know, but you will have some left, and I want to do business with you, so bring out your furs and I will treat you right.”
“That sounds well, but you must remember that though the Great Company charges more, their goods are the best goods, while yours are all cheap rubbish.”
Thinking the opportunity a favourable one, Gibeault assumed an air of friendly solicitude and said:
“The Company has cheated your people so many hundred years that they are now very rich. No wonder they can afford to give you high prices for your furs. Free Trader Spear is a poor but honest man. It is to your great advantage to trade part of your furs with me in order to make it worth his while to send me here every winter. As you know, my presence here compels the Company to pay full value for your furs and so you are the one who reaps the greatest benefit.”
“That is partly true,” answered Oo-koo-hoo, “but I must be loyal to the Company. You are here to-day and away tomorrow; but the Company is here for ever. But I will not be hard on you; I will wait and see how you look at me.”
For a while the dignified Indian sat puffing at his pipe and gazing at the fire. Every line of his weather-beaten and wrinkled but handsome face was full of sterling character. At times his small eyes twinkled as a flash of cunning crept into them, and a keen sense of humour frequently twitched the corners of his determined mouth. Then he brought out a pack of furs and, handing it to Lawson, said:
“This is to pay the Great Company for the advances they gave us last summer.”
Lawson took the bundle without opening it, as it would not be checked over until he delivered it at Fort Consolation. Resenting the Indian’s attitude toward Gibeault he began:
“I see, now that there’s another trader here, it’s easy for you to forget your old friends. The free trader comes and goes. Give him your furs, an’ he doesn’t care whether you’re dead to-morrow. It’s not like that with the Great Company. The Company came first among your people, and since then it has been like a father, not only to all your people before you, but to you as well. Whenever your forefathers were smitten with hunger or disease, who looked after them? It wasn’t the free trader; it was the Company. Who sells you the best goods? It isn’t the free trader; it’s the Company. Who gave you your debt last fall and made it possible for you to hunt this winter? It wasn’t the free trader; it was the Company. My brother, you have none to thank but the Great Company that you’re alive to-day.”
With a grunt of disapproval Oo-koo-hoo sullenly retorted:
“The Priest says it is The Master of Life we have to thank for that. I am sure that the Commissioner of the Great Company is not so great as God. It is true you give us good prices now, but it is also true that you have not given us back the countless sums you stole from our fathers and grandfathers and all our people before them; for did you not wait until the coming of the free traders before you would give us the worth of our skins? No wonder you are great masters; it seems to me that it takes great rogues to become great masters.”
The angry Lawson, to save a quarrel, bit his moustache, smiled faintly and, presenting the hunter with even more than Gibeault had given, said:
“Never mind, my brother, you’re a pretty smart man.”
Without replying, Oo-koo-hoo accepted the present so eagerly that he jerked it out of the trader’s hand. That pleased Lawson. Presently the Indian threw down a bear skin, saying:
“My brother, this is to see how you look at me.”
Now the way of the experienced fur-runner is to offer a big price—often an excessive price—for the first skin. He calculates that it puts the Indian in a good humour and in the end gives the trader a chance of getting ahead of the native. That is just what Lawson did, and Gibeault refused to raise the bid.
“My brother,” said the Indian addressing the latter, “you had better go home if you cannot pay better prices than the Great Company.”
Gibeault, nettled, outbid his rival for the next skin, and thus it went on, first one and then the other raising the prices higher and higher, much to the delight of the Indians. Oo-koo-hoo had already sold a number of skins for more than their market value before it dawned on the white men that they were playing a losing game. Though glaring savagely at each other, both were ready to capitulate. Lawson, pretending to examine some of Gibeault’s goods, stooped and whispered:
“We’re actin’ like fools. If we keep this up our bosses will fire us both.”
“Let’s swap even—you take every other skin at your own figure,” returned the French half-breed.
“Agreed,” said Lawson, straightening up.
No longer outbidding one another, they got the next few skins below the market price. But before the traders had made good their loss the Indian gathered up his furs and turning to the fur-runners with a smile, said:
“My brothers, as I see that you have agreed to cheat me, I have decided that I and my people will keep all our furs until we go out next spring; so it is now useless for you to remain any longer.”
Having read the note Gibeault brought me from Free Trader Spear, I hastened to hand the half-breed my reply, accepting Mr. and Mrs. Spear’s invitation to be their guest for a few days when everyone would be gathering at Fort Consolation to attend the New Year’s dance; and again I wondered if “Son-in-law” would be there.